The training yard overlooked the capital.
Stone walls curved around an open courtyard where summoned heroes now stood in organized lines. Racks of practice weapons gleamed in the afternoon sun. Wooden dummies lined one side. Targets on the other.
Knights in silver-blue armor paced like hawks among prey.
Elias stood near the back.
He preferred observing.
A familiar translucent screen shimmered into existence when one of the knights clapped his hands.
[Orientation Phase: Combat Calibration]
Defeat a Lesser Training Construct.
Reward: Basic Equipment + Stat Evaluation.
"Construct?" someone muttered.
The ground trembled.
From a gated archway, creatures lumbered forward.
Stone and wood fused together in crude humanoid shapes. Hollow eye sockets glowed faint amber. Training weapons were fused into their arms.
Not illusions.
Not harmless.
Real enough.
"Non-lethal enchantments are applied," a knight announced. "You may feel pain. You will not die."
That did not comfort anyone.
One of the newly appointed Sword Saints stepped forward confidently. He charged.
Steel rang against wood. Sparks flew.
A burst of light — and the construct shattered.
Cheers erupted.
System notifications flashed above his head.
Elias watched carefully.
He pulled up his own status screen.
Name: Elias Morn
Class: Undetermined
Level: 1
HP: 100
MP: 50
Strength: 10
Agility: 10
Endurance: 10
Intelligence: 10
Wisdom: 10
Perception: 10
Luck: Hidden
Charm: Hidden
Charisma: Hidden
Talent: Devour (Unique)
Perfect balance.
Suspiciously perfect.
A knight approached Elias and handed him a simple iron sword.
"Show us what your world produced," the knight said flatly.
No blessing.
No title.
No expectation.
Just evaluation.
A construct lumbered toward him.
It was slower than he expected — but heavy. One hit would hurt.
Elias stepped aside instead of blocking.
He tested weight. Timing.
The construct swung wide.
He ducked, drove the blade into the joint where wood met stone.
Crack.
The construct staggered.
He pulled the sword free and struck again, this time at the glowing core in its chest.
The amber light shattered.
The construct collapsed.
Silence.
Then—
[Enemy Defeated: Lesser Training Construct]
Devour Activating…
Time seemed to stretch.
His heartbeat slowed.
That whisper returned.
Hungry.
Energy seeped from the broken construct — faint threads of pale light pulling toward him.
Elias did not move.
The threads sank into his chest.
Cold.
Then warmth.
Devour Result Rolled.
+2 to ALL Stats.
(27% Category Triggered)
Power surged through his limbs.
Not explosive.
Not overwhelming.
Balanced.
Controlled.
He inhaled sharply.
Strength: 12
Agility: 12
Endurance: 12
Intelligence: 12
Wisdom: 12
Perception: 12
His muscles felt tighter. His thoughts sharper. His senses clearer.
Subtle.
But undeniable.
No one else seemed to notice.
The knights simply nodded and marked something on enchanted tablets.
But Elias felt something else.
Devour had not just taken.
It had evaluated.
Weighing.
Testing.
A second message flickered — faint, almost hidden.
First Consumption Bonus Applied.
Future Results May Vary.
May vary.
He remembered the warning.
Not all outcomes are beneficial.
Around him, other summoned heroes struggled. Some barely defeated their constructs. One was knocked flat and dragged away for healing.
The Sword Saint from earlier cut through a second construct with ease.
Applause followed him.
Elias stepped back into line quietly.
A knight frowned slightly at his tablet.
"Odd," the knight muttered.
"What?" another asked.
"His output increased post-engagement. All parameters."
The second knight glanced at Elias.
"Growth-type talent?"
"Possibly."
They said nothing further.
But Elias noticed.
After a brief pause, the ground trembled again.
Larger constructs emerged this time.
The training phase was escalating.
One of them turned its hollow gaze toward Elias.
He felt Devour stir again.
Hungry.
This time…
He wasn't sure if he should feed it.
Elias tightened his grip on the sword.
If this was a trial…
Then every choice mattered.
He stepped forward as the larger construct charged.
And for the first time since arriving in this world—
He chose to test fate willingly.